


Good with his mouth

by Patience_on_a_Monument



Series: P4 Memes [2]
Category: Persona 4
Genre: Anonymous Sex, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Sexual Fantasy, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-28 22:18:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16731675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patience_on_a_Monument/pseuds/Patience_on_a_Monument
Summary: From the kink meme:Yosuke discovers that he loves giving blow jobs. It's up to you if it's just messy smut or if you want to handle how Yosuke feels about it, and how whoever he's working over (Yu? Kanji?) reacts.I took a few liberties.





	Good with his mouth

The tiled floor of the bathroom was hard on Yosuke’s knees where he knelt, cold seeping through the thin fabric of his jeans as he attempted to get into a more comfortable position. The unpleasantness of the environment compounded the tight fist of nervousness that pushed under his rib cage when his gaze jittered onto the bulge in front of him. He looked up at the guy - he had introduced himself at the start of the night but now all Yosuke could remember was a jumble of initials from his username – and their eyes met for a second before he ducked his head to stare intently at a strip of wrapper on the floor.

He had spent months as a teenager fighting literal nightmares, reapers and gods, yet here he was shaking at the thought of a dick. He swallowed a derisive laugh and raised those same trembling fingers to fumble at the button of the man's jeans.

It was a stupid thing to be nervous about, and he knew it. Insurmountable yet inevitable: he was kicking off the last vestige of the shame and anger that had strangled his teenage self so tightly whenever he thought of another boy for too long. And while it was normally a case of thinking of one boy in particular for too long, he had let the panic spread until the most minor event could trigger it - then spent hours and days crusading against his own psyche as he convinced himself that he was a skirt-chasing straight and that nothing and nobody would sway him. He’d had girlfriends now, settled in himself enough to even have a boyfriend or two, but this he could never bring himself to commit to, the last scrap of his denial clinging to his mind despite everything. Nobody ever asked him for it, and there was no way he was volunteering to expose his weakness to whomever was putting up with him for the moment.

Here’s to the illusion of anonymity afforded by the internet; here’s to Dutch courage. If he hated it or if he sucked (bad word choice) then the world would forget it alongside him and he'd avoid attempting it a second time. He’d seen enough of the inside of his own head to dance around his demons for too long.

He scrambled for the zipper and pulled at the wrong angle before he took a breath and tried again, the movement bringing the offending article a shuffled half-step closer. The guy pulled himself free with a grunt, one practiced motion, and Yosuke let out a hiccoughed gasp at the escalation.

This was nothing, he’d seen pictures of this man’s junk before, he’d literally been around dicks before, there was nothing to be afraid of. Any more nerves and the dude would know he was a beginner at all this.

It was just so…close.

Half hard, the dick waving slowly in front of Yosuke’s face as its owner tottered above him, he was suddenly even more aware of the exposed the musty atmosphere of the tiles and bare stalls. A shiver trilled through his spine at their daring, and he grasped at the feeling.

He reached a hand out and ran a finger along the shaft, his heart slowing as he thumbed back along the base and the familiar texture greeted him. He closed his fingers around it and pulled as he angled himself forward to breathe on the tip. The rhythmic motion of his hand and the relaxed, grateful, sigh he was greeted with steadied him.

A hand on the back of his head told him it was time. He licked his lips and looked up to meet eyes clouded in lust and alcohol.

Now or never.

He pitched forward to lick skin, recoiling for a beat as the tang hit the back of his tongue, but was back in the fray in an instant. With his mouth latched on he pushed down the vestiges of humiliation at being lodged like a lamprey, instead sliding his tongue against slick skin and focusing his mind on the heat in his mouth rather than the warmth in his face.

The voice above him grunted, boosting his confidence enough so he could venture further. He slid a few inches down, his mouth feeling impossibly full, before this new confidence betrayed him into a gag and a splutter that it took all his self-control to put to rest, and he pulled off in a hurry.

Yosuke tried to compose himself, bent over with fists tight on thighs that were beginning to burn, heart hammering and breath short. He couldn’t look at the guy, couldn’t believe he’d got himself this far into embarrassing himself all to win a fight against his own insecurity, one of so many he had lost since he first encountered hormones.

“Sorry, uh…” was all he could manage. Another loss, God he was never going to go outside again after this.

“Don’t worry about it, just keep going, okay?” the voice said, deep and warm. Yosuke jolted at the blatant want and at being wanted, and he smiled despite himself. Maybe this wasn’t as much of a deal as he was making it out to be.

Now that he knew exactly how much he couldn’t handle he approached the task slower, and with his concentration fully on the task at hand rather than on his own nervousness his movements were smoother and less frantic, although the butterflies in his belly were only tamed and not eradicated.

With one hand massaging the hair at the base of the guy’s cock and his other knuckled on the floor he lathered attention on the hot flesh in front of him, closed his eyes and began to form a rhythm in his bobbing to meet it. There was a comfort in the routine of sucks, strokes and licks he got into, and once the hand wove its way back into his hair to cradle the back of his head there was little he could do but let out a low groan that echoed back to him in a stronger grip on his hair. 

Now that he had a system and hadn’t thrown up everywhere he relaxed his shoulders and could appreciate the feedback he got for his movements, the little flairs he added, and he started to add in tricks he had garnered from his wasted adolescent porn obsession. Twists, suckles, hums, all working to get him the appreciation and intimacy he was so desperate for. 

“Just… just like that,” came the whisper above him, and he redoubled his efforts. By that point he had forgotten why he had ever been nervous about giving a blow job, exaggerated by his own nonsense fears.

His mind wandered as he applied himself; his tongue memorising the crests and valleys, veins and swells. The stretch of it was so satisfying, and it occurred to him that while there was a cock in his mouth he couldn’t put his foot in it. Restraining the self-deprecating chuckle and associated throat spasms took a lot more care than he had anticipated.

There was no reason he shouldn’t have done this years ago, he should never have let his own fears rule him. Yosuke had seen first-hand what that looked like, and it was insanity that he had so blatantly denied himself out of fear. His dick started to stir in his jeans, but he ignored it to please the man in front of him.

The same dream that had dogged him for so many years sprung to the fore again; his partner feline and confident; yet toned and scarred just like Yosuke was. They had shared showers after P.E. and helped each other out of blood-stained clothes enough that Yosuke had every inch he had been permitted forever committed to memory. The smudge of grey hair above a towel in the steam of the bathhouse coloured his fantasy while the feel of muscles against his palm lent it texture as his hand snaked from the floor to grasp a thigh, his thumb gently stroking across the man’s balls. Calloused hands in his hair, familiar from helping him back to his feet over and over. 

There was a warmth in his gut at the thought of having his partner like this, responding to him and sitting heavy in his mouth. No lofty expectations between them, no awkward shuffling or excuses. They had shared looks, back in the day, and there was sometimes a pause when talking on the phone that Yosuke was sure was his partner trying to say something important but failing. He was always picked for the team. They had been special to each other - more than that - but too young and unsure to do anything. 

His partner was never one to talk much, but he knew his grunts of exertion and sighs of happiness - had fixated over them for much longer than he should have when he was back in his futon - and he could vividly imagine them transplanted into this context. No loud encouragement, it would all be through physical signs as always. Soft breaths and his name chanted almost inaudibly. 

The fantasy eased itself to the front of his mind unbidden. His partner would be gentle but commanding, and he would use those clever hands to tell Yosuke what to do. He could feel himself harden in response and dropped a hand to knead himself through his jeans. There was a huff of disappointment from above at the loss of his attention, but he was too lost in the moment to be discouraged.

His partner wouldn’t have done that, he would have been watching like he always used to, keeping track of every movement, and wouldn’t malign him for seeking his own pleasure. He understood him, and Yosuke was willing to bet that seeing him hard would only deepen his partner’s desire. He was always like that, promising favours to return them in kind, and the idea made him scrabble with his zipper and pull his too-hard dick free. He dragged his lips off the stiff cock long enough to drool onto his hand, and his first touch of his hand to himself was a blissful relief. 

He turned his attention back to eye height and reattached his mouth with a long slide down and a strong suck up, and his right hand crept down to hold the heavy balls as they tightened in his palm. Something hit the back of his throat as a moan echoed through the bathroom and he gagged, worried that he had over-extended again before he put it all together with the tenseness of the body above him and recognised the taste of cum. He forced himself to swallow past his reflex, and looked up to see… black hair, brown eyes. The edge of his excitement dulled.

The stranger wobbled on his feet and his hands slipped to Yosuke’s shoulders to steady himself. Yosuke took the opportunity to duck his head away from the unfamiliar face and closed his eyes to return to the fantasy. His hand moved fast, still foggy in the atmosphere of closeness and the vivid illusion of his partner heaving gasps above him. He imagined him finishing in his mouth, silent as he ever was, then pulling out to kneel to his level with hands soft on his nape, before leaning in for an even softer kiss. 

He curled into his orgasm as it rocked through him, catching most of his spend in his hand and uncaring of the rest. It left him shaken and molten against the cool tiles, half deaf to a quiet “thanks” and oblivious to the lack of contact as the man moved away 

“Call me and let’s do this again, yeah?” the body said, and Yosuke managed to garble out “sure” before there was a click of the stall door and he was left in peace. 

He shakily rose to his feet and washed his hands, brushed the crud from his knees and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Yosuke scrolled through his list of contacts, his breath slowing but his mind racing, until he hit the only entry in P and pressed Call.

**Author's Note:**

> working title: im blo yo


End file.
